At my new journal group discussion the other night, lots of people were unhappy with their journals and journal practices. I wondered why we bother to keep journals or make art when so often we feel unentitled, lacking, frustrated, etc. So I asked the group to think about what they absolutely loved about their journals, to find a single page that made them happy. And then I went home and flipped through a few of my recent journals and found this page. It's a fairly bland page, made while I was on a train going from White River Junction, VT, to Penn Station, NYC, a few months ago.
I had sketched the town near the station while waiting for the train; I had reminisced about the last trip to the Lebanon Co-op with my family; I had sketched a cup of coffee; but the wonderful thing about the page, what made it so valuable to me, was that I had written down a quote that I had found in the Amtrak magazine that was stuck in the seat pocket in front of me. Had I not had my journal with me I would have immediately forgotten the quote, and it is what makes this particular page spectacular to me.
The quote was from an outsider artist named Freddie Brice (1920- 98). He defined his art in such a perfect way, (and I think it's a fine definition of a journal practice, too), when he said his art was ". . . a hobby -- a true thing [that] becomes regular. It becomes continuously. It becomes outrageous. It becomes magnificent."
So I am posing a question for all of you: when have been the times that your own journal practice (however intermittent and imperfect and lacking) has become magnificent? satisfying? useful? a pleasure? continuously? I would love to read your comments!
I've not kept a journal on a reugular basis. I do take notes and write everything I see and feel when in crisis mode, had a few of those in my life. However, the comments Brice made apply directly to my art, hobby, passion which is riding horses. It is an art, requiring extreme sensitivity, awareness of self, awareness of horse, awareness of the moment. To be truly successful with horses, one must live in the second, as they do. When a rider achieves that oneness with their horse it is continuity, it is outrageously joyful and totally magnificent. I endure frustration, tears and a total sense of failure to achieve those fleeting moments of continuous, outrageous magnificence.
ReplyDeleteMagnificent? Not sure I've yet approached that, but satisfying? Oh, yes! There seems little rhyme or reason to what exceeds most pages. Some are great sketches (as in they look like I wanted them to), some capture the essence of a moment well spent, and yet others are maybe breakthroughs when I achieved a certain goal I had set for myself within the pages.
ReplyDeleteI recently captured a small "ballerina" that had come into the restaurant where I was eating to have lunch with her parents....she was full of pink, sparkly laughter and non-stop chatter in her little fluffy tutu!
Within the space of 15 minutes, she had quieted and sunk down onto the bench next to Daddy and all you could see were the top two inches of her head. Tired from the morning, no doubt. My sketch wasn't great, but the capturing of that moment was priceless!
When I look back at my journals it is the descriptions and images that recorded the mundane goings on around me that I find most magnificent now. I am reminded (and how quickly brought back!)of the impermence of life when I see what I was surrounded by at that time and how different things are now.
ReplyDeleteI am so happy to have you blogging!
Now that I think about it, I almost never look back at my journals. That may be just as well, since my skills will likely never satisfy my ambitions. However, what I LOVE about my journalling is the actual time when I am working in my journal. The world and time evaporate and the only thing I'm aware of is what I'm doing on the page. I'm seeing, not just looking. It's like defying the laws of physics!
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Thanks Cynthia, Laure, Kelcey, and Jeanette for your very thoughtful comments! great expanding ideas.
ReplyDeleteI love the process of journaling. Putting ideas and images on paper. It is a sense of accomplishment.
ReplyDeleteWhen I look back at previous entries I am surprised by all the little details I have forgotten about and revisiting them delights me. My entries capture a moment in time.
For me all changed during my first serious job out of Textile/Design school when I began working with fine artists. Mine was a technical artistic education, not a fine arts based one. I was surrounded by fine artists and had already been inculcated to the important of keeping an art journal in school. So my two work buddies and I decided to purchase journals and encourage one another to do it. Often. We would take lunch and draw with non-dominant hand, contour, on brown paper with colored pencil, both hands mirrored, our lunches become 'too long'.
ReplyDeleteI studied the color work by these two men, the drawing style, we met up for coffee outside work. My husband even asked if anything 'funny' was going on. Only if an emerging an passion in journal keeping could be considered 'funny'.
Then I started purchasing books and journals by other artists, I continued to study, as I do still. And I made a promise to myself that journaling was fun. If I didn't like a page, I was no longer in school, I could and would cover crap up. And I want my best on each page for that day-which is a variable goal, not fixed, deafening or defeatist.
And I now have a butter box!
My journal philosophy is like my life philosophy - while I might not love every page, I love the book. I use my journals to play. To explore. To capture a thought or idea. To stay in the moment. To help me process stuff. I play in my journals regularly, and they are beloved companions along my journey.
ReplyDeleteThanks Melly, Kim, and Kisiwa! I love the details of your lives with journals!
ReplyDeleteWhile I am not yet the artist you and some others are I think I would go crazy without my journals. I do get a satisfied feeling when I get a quote down with a picture, capture an event that moves me or get a thought drawn out. Yep, journals are magnificent in that respect.
ReplyDeleteI draw most days and sometimes write my little notes about the time and place or reason for drawing. Sometimes it is an explanation of why I chose a specifc object to draw.
ReplyDeleteI love to look back through my journals every now and then. It takes me back to a time an place. - so in that way they are useful.
But so much more - they are most satisfying and pleasurable when my drawings (which i do first on the page) flow onto the page. Some just come together and work so well from the start. It is not planned - i just happens (sometimes on the most ordinary drawings). I wish I could plan it !
I have always kept a written journal (since I was a wee lass), then as an adult - a practicing artist- I began keeping journal sketchbooks. I would go to my studio and collage/paint and mixed media art. I was making my type of artowrk. But then I used the journal/sketchbook for my no-pressure doodle drawings. I happened to show the sketchbook to a friend (who is also a professional artist) and she said "Wow! THIS is what you should be doing! It's different from anything I have seen...it obviously makes you happy..."
ReplyDeleteSo -that moment defined pure joy and freedom in my work to me. It became the basis for the easier artwork that I have ever created. And it stemmed from my tiny pocket sketchbook.
Like Carol, I have journaled from childhood right into today, with huge gaps as life made different demands on me. They are word journals, but they gradually became a mix of sketches, doodles, pasted-in drawings, sewn-in little vignettes made of scraps of paper and fabric and embroidery thread . . . And the studio journals that started about 30 years ago are separate, though both types can overlap occasionally. What I love best is that to open any of them randomly is to go back to a time when I was concentrating on something, either struggling to describe my surroundings with words or using lines to see my world better (or differently). Journaling is what I do to look backward and to look forward. Life, with notes!
ReplyDeleteI was going through some things and came across an old journal I had in college. I sat and read through it and all of a sudden I was that young girl feeling all the emotions of that time. Wow was that an eye opener. I am starting a journal of moments. Things I remember from my life that left an impression. We will see how it goes... I love your journal page of the train station. Here's to memories.
ReplyDeleteI have been keeping a 'sketchbook' for almost 10 years. It really kicked into high gear after I got a copy of Danny Gregory's "A Creative License". Some of the drawings are learning experiences and some are good enough to scan and take to the office to put on my screen saver - then I can enjoy them over and over.
ReplyDeleteLove that book, and also Danny's blog, Everyday Matters!
ReplyDeletegwen, i lost track of your blog, and have come back to the beginning (almost). journal practice is vital, even if it's a collection of used envelopes with hen scratch sketches pasted in. it's my memory device. (since i lost track of this blog you can totally see what i mean!)
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